


Anniversary

by Angst_Hoe



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-21 02:36:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22553722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angst_Hoe/pseuds/Angst_Hoe
Summary: It's almost been 5 years since Spencer Reid was abducted by Tobias Hankel, but no one knows what really happened at that graveyard. Spencer tries to deal with the memories flooding his mind as his team tries to help from the outside looking in. But trying to cope with unresolved trauma can result in bad situations, and Spencer is about to see just how bad things can get.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Character(s), Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. The Day Before

Spencer walked in just as I began a pot of coffee. He was abducted by Tobias Hankle exactly five years ago tomorrow. I feel for him. I can’t imagine what he went through. I only saw bits and pieces with the rest of the team, but I am still shaken to my core. I look at him sometimes and I see his tears rolling down his face as Tobias held a gun to his head requesting the impossible from our boy genius. I watch him as he strolls to his desk. His long hair bounces around his head. He is much less innocent now, there’s a sophistication to his eyes that is absolutely intoxicating. He licks his lips as he opens his computer. Today his eyes look different, they’re darker. I wonder if I should walk over, just to ask him if he’s okay. I doubt myself, I’m not even sure we’re that close. I don't even know everything that happened there, but does anyone? Morgan comes over placing a hand on my shoulder, I must have been too obvious with my staring.   
“Hey Princess,” he leans over, “what are you staring at?” He smirks.  
“Nothing, just thinking.” I looked up at him, innocently smiling.   
He leans in closer, “Look, we’re all worried about the kid, but you know we can’t coddle him. He can handle himself, and it’s been five years I am sure he’s moved on.” He smiles reassuringly and saunters off. I guess, but have I? I scold myself, this isn't about me. It doesn't matter if I’ve moved on. I wasnt kidnapped and tortured. I try to focus on my work, but my eyes keep getting pulled to Reid’s desk. Suddenly, he stands and walks to Hotch’s office. About 10 minutes passed and he finally returns, eyes red. He packs his stuff and leaves as suddenly as he arrived. I look over at my colleague as he rushes out, and look up to see my boss giving me the nod to chase after him. I run through Quantico, not even thinking to grab an umbrella before I rush out into the pouring rain. I find him sitting alone in his car, head on the steering wheel and shoulders shaking.   
I knock on his window, “Spence,” yelling over the pouring rain, “are you okay?” He looks up and jumps to see me standing next to his car, drenched in rain.  
“Oh my god Rose, get in the car!” I rushed to the passenger side, and slump into the seat. As he’s drying his eyes, I carefully ask, “Hey, do you want to talk about it?” He looks away, unable to look at me. “Look I don't mean to pry, you just seemed so upset inside and whenever I go through something it really helps me to talk about it. I can go if you need me to, I’m sorry” I start to open the door when he grabs my arm tight.   
“Wait,” his red eyes stare at me as tears start to fall down his face again. “It’s been five years, and I am still not past this.” He looks down, almost ashamed. “I never told anyone everything that really happened, I never put it in the case file because I couldn't bear to talk about it,” he looks out the window, “but, I feel so guilty.”  
I look at him with sadness in my eyes, “Oh Spence, I’m so sorry. But even if you withheld info, no one would blame you for that.” He places a napkin over his eyes as he starts to cry again, he’s shaking. I put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m here for you.” I wasn’t expecting him to be like this, I couldn't even think of what to say. He slowly took his hand away from his face and stared at his hands in his lap, slowly squeezing the napkin.   
“Tobias had three personalities,” his voice is so quiet I can barely hear him, “Tobias, Rafael, and, um, and his dad.” He looks up at me, he seems scared. I rest a hand on his shoulder as he continues. “I could handle Rafael, but his father…” he trailed off. “We knew his father beat Tobias and berated him, but that’s not all he did.”   
I looked down as I realized what he meant, “Oh Spence…”   
“When I woke up after Tobias drugged me the first time, his father was waiting for me. He punished me by hitting the soles of my feet but he decided that wasn’t enough.” He looked out the window, his breath catching. “His father, um, his father…” his hands hold the napkin to his face, I rub his arms wishing I knew how to help him. “Spence, if you can’t...” He cuts me off, “No, it’s been five years, if I can’t talk about this...” He looks up at me again. His eyes are filled with tears, one falls down his cheek as he looks back at his lap. “His father decided I needed a more severe punishment for my sins. He said, ‘The sin I’m about to commit, will be forgiven as a punishment for you.’” Spencer’s breath catches again, through sobs he begins again, “I didn’t know what to do. I-I was t-tied to a ch-chair and my h-hands… I-I couldn’t d-defend m-myself.” His voice was a breathless whisper, tears falling down his face as he finally found the strength to confront what Hankle had done to him five years ago. “He said that he was broadcasting to you guys, but I knew the camera was off.” I could barely hear him as he whispered, “He molested me, then shot me up with more dilaudid.” I was furious. How could such a horrible event happen to someone as amazing as Spencer? “Spence…” I spoke, tears streaming down my face.   
“It was five years ago. And I am a grown a-ass man.” he tried to reassure himself, “I can handle this on my own, I have handled everything on my own my whole life. I handled my mom, m-my uh my dad” he stopped suddenly, squeezing the napkin still in his hand, his knuckles turning white. We weren't supposed to profile each other, but I could tell that 1. He was not just okay about what Tobias had done to him, and 2. The stutter before mentioning his father suggested that he was, unfortunately, probably abused by his father as well.  
“Spence,” I spoke softly, tentatively, “did, did your father hurt you as well?” His face fell immediately.   
“What? Why would you-” I softened my face as he began to deny my accusation. That was only natural, especially if he never told anyone.   
“Spence,” I started again, “as a team we promised not to profile each other, so if you want me to stop just say so.” His eyes were wide and filled with tears, but it appeared as if he was trying to keep it together to hide the truth. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, I was only asking out of concern. But, I see now that I overstepped, and I’m sorry. It’s just-”  
“Yes.” I could barely hear him. He was looking down at his lap again as his tears once again fell down his face. “But, that was so long ago, and he, um, he stopped when he left my mom so, so it doesn't r-really matter.” I didn’t know what to say back to him. I wasn’t expecting him to be so honest, I looked out the window at the rain, trying to hide the tears that had started falling down my cheeks. “L-Look, Rose, this was probably much, much more than you thought you would hear when you c-came out here to ch-check up on me, so I get it if you need to go inside. Just, just p-please d-d-don’t tell anyone what I j-just told you.” I looked back at him with watery eyes, and he looked right at me. I have never seen him look so sad, so ashamed. “And i-if you think a-about it, my father p-prepared me for Tobias so it’s all o-okay.” He gave me a half-hearted smile that I didn’t buy for one second. Just earlier I looked at him as someone so mature, but right now, I saw him as the kid of the team. I just wanted to take his pain away.   
“Spencer, I would never tell anyone.”   
“Good.” He cleared his throat, and seemed to change his whole demeanor. “Then I think we are done here, you should probably go back inside before anyone has to come out here to check on you.” He smiled again, but he still had pain in his eyes. “Really, I’m okay, I’m just gonna go home and sleep it off.”  
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later, Spencer.” I smiled as I got out of the car, but something felt off. His mood switched so quickly, like he had settled on something. Like he had some sort of plan he decided on. It was such a range of emotions. Maybe I should go over to his apartment later, just to check up on him-- “Ah!” I was so preoccupied with my thoughts about Spencer I didn’t even see Morgan until I had ran straight into him.   
“Hey! Princess! Watch where you’re going,” he chuckled, “what’s distracting that brain of yours anyway?” I gulped, I couldn’t betray Spencer’s trust.  
“I’m just still really worried about Spencer.” I technically didn’t lie. “I just tried to talk to him and he seemed off when I left him, like he was unstable.”  
“I’m sure he’ll be okay, princess. You have a big heart, and it’s in the right place, but he’s a grown man. He’ll be okay.” he gave me a kind smile, and sauntered off. Yeah, I thought, but what if he isn’t?


	2. Liquor Store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer shows up at Rose's apartment unexpectedly, but the night does not end how either anticipated.

I finally got home around 11pm, and I was exhausted. I practically melted into my couch as I turned on National Geographic. I was a profiler in the F.B.I, and I absolutely loved my job, but I can’t help but wonder what my life would have been like had I pursued my passion for science. I smirked as I thought about the MCAT bullet I dodged, then heard a knock on my apartment door. Who the hell is here so late? I wondered as I dragged myself to the entryway. My mouth dropped as I saw Spencer, slightly swaying at my doorstep.  
“Spencer?” What is he doing here? Is he, is he high or something?  
“Oh Rose!” He looked surprised to be standing in front of me. “Aw man, it is so great to see you!” He pulled me into a big hug. That’s when I smelt the bar he must’ve drank before deciding to stop by for a visit.  
“Spencer, how much have you had to drink?” I was worried, but I was mostly thankful he wasn’t high on dilaudid.  
“Just a f-few drinks,” he laugh-hiccupped, “speaking of, do y-you have any h-here?” He peered around me to look into my kitchen. He was hurting, but I couldn’t figure out how I was supposed to help him.  
“Let’s drink some water first, alright?” He nodded, so I helped him inside.  
“Oh! You watch National Geographic? That’s my favorite channel!”  
“Yeah? Well, let’s get you some water and then we can watch it together.” I smiled, of course that was his favorite channel. My friend was obviously going through something, but I couldn’t help but think how perfect we could be together. I was almost giddy at the idea of just sitting on the couch with him. He plopped down in front of the T.V. and I soon followed with his glass of water.  
“Thanks,” his voice faltered. He wouldn’t look at me.  
“Hey, what's wrong?” My eyebrows furrowed in concern. I just wanted him to look at me.  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come over here.” A tear fell down his face and made a small drop in his glass.  
“Spencer, I’m happy you’re here.” I smiled at him. This couldn’t be easy for him, especially in his current state.  
Finally he looked up at me, “C-could I stay over here? I j-just can’t h-handle being alone in m-my apartment.”  
I gave him a sad smile, “Of course, whatever you need.” He mumbled a small thank you before his tears began to fall at a faster rate. “Oh, Spencer.” I leaned over and hugged him. He buried his face in my shoulder as he began sobbing. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” It pained me feeling his body rake with emotion as he finally let go. I led him to the bedroom, showed him where the shower was if he wanted to use it, and said goodnight. I figured it’d be best if I slept on the couch, he seemed like he needed support and distance. I was wearing a XXL t-shirt that I loved to sleep in, my favorite pair of lacy underwear, and I had my hair tied in a loose ponytail. I was making my make-shift couch bed when he came in the room.  
“You know, you have a king sized bed.” I nodded in response, not quite sure why he was explaining the size of my bed to me. “I-I feel bad making you sleep on the c-couch, and your bed is big enough for both of us if you wanted to sh-share?”  
“Sure, give me just a minute.” I smiled. He smiled back, and slowly walked back into my bedroom. I grabbed my glasses and followed him in.  
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he smirked at me. I threw a pillow at him and laughed right back.  
“What? You don’t like them?” I smiled down at the bed as I started climbing in for the night. He laid down facing me, and brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.  
“You look beautiful in them.” I blushed, I was fairly confident in who I was, but I specifically only wore contacts to work because I was still subconscious of my less-than-perfect vision. He gently pulled them off my face and reached behind me to set them on my bedside table. God, I love his cologne, I thought. When he returned to looking at me, he did what I least expected: he kissed me. I pulled back in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. “Fuck, Rose I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”  
“No,” I spoke softly, “it’s just, are you sure you want to do this right now? You’re pretty drunk Reid.” He shook his head, his hands on his eyes. “Hey, I want to kiss you. I just want you to want to kiss me, ya’know?”  
He smiled back, “Rose, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.” I looked down embarrassed, my cheeks grew warm as I started to blush. He gently lifted my chin, and kissed me again. I returned the favor this time as he ran his hand up into my shirt. I pushed him over, straddling his waist, kissing him harder. He ran his other hand through my hair, as I began rocking against his. He moaned into my lips as I took his positive response as a signal to go fast, harder. He was hard beneath me, and I started trailing my lips down his neck nipping at his ears when I reached them. He moaned out my name as I reached his collar bone, still rocking against him. Just as we were getting close, a loud knock echoed through my apartment.  
“What the fuck?” I mumbled. Spencer composed himself in the bedroom as I walked towards my door. I looked through the peephole to find a disheveled JJ. I opened the door, “JJ? What are you doing here? Did I miss a call or something? Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her arms were crossed and she wouldnt look directly at me.  
“JJ, what's going on?” She seemed nervous as she unfolded and folded her arms again, her eyes darting left and right.  
“Spencer was acting weird earlier, and now he wont answer any of my messages and I’m just so worried because I know this anniversary is so hard for him and I am always so nervous he’ll slip into his addiction again and I just didn't know who else to go to.” She looked up at me, biting her nail. “I’m sorry, I know it's late, I just don’t know where he is.”  
“Well, you're in luck because you found him.” I smiled. “It smelt like he drank a liquor store, so I let him stay over here. We’ve been watching National Geographic for the past hour as he sobers up. He must have left his phone at his apartment.”  
“Oh thank god,” JJ laughed in relief. “Thank you for taking care of him. Between you and me, I think he has a thing for you.” She smirked. “He’s too scared to admit it though. Well, tell him I was worried, and he shouldnt abandon his phone. I’ll see you guys on Monday.” She turned and walked down the stairs, waving goodnight. I closed the door behind me, breathing out a sigh of relief as I leaned against it.  
“JJ says hi, and that you shouldn't abandon your phone. You worried her!” I teased him from the living room, but I got no response. “C’mon, don’t tell me you're already asleep.” Still no response. “Spencer?” I walked into the bedroom, turning on the light. The covers were disheveled, there was a red stain on my sheets, a trail of blood, and an open window. “Holy shit.” I whispered to myself. I looked out the window, as I grabbed the gun I kept hidden nearby it. I saw the blood on the fire escape, and a big pool of it in the street. “Holy shit!” I yelled. I quickly pulled some pants on, and rushed down the fire escape calling out for spencer. I saw JJ walking towards her car on the other side of the street, and I ran to her.  
“What wrong? Where’s spence?”  
“There’s blood, and, and, the window…” I looked back at my apartment building. “I only spoke to you for a minute, I-I don't know what happened!”  
“Okay, I’m calling Hotch, you follow the trail.” I nodded and raced into the alleyway, praying he didn’t get far.


	3. Ekki Mukk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid has been taken and the only trace of his disappearance is a message written in blood.

The alley was incredibly dark and a faint smell of blood coated the air as Rose rushed through calling out Spencer’s name. He wasn’t responding, but the farther into the alley she went, the stronger the scent of blood. The hair on the back of her neck became raised as the stench was almost too much to handle. Her gun was pointed in front of her, ready for anyone or anything to surprise her. She was still wearing her pajamas, slippers, and her hair was still a mess from the night’s previous… events. She shook her head as thoughts of an injured spencer clouded her mind, she willed herself to stay focused as she kept stepping around broken shards of glass and trash looking for her friend. She noticed the stench of blood was at its peak near the end of the alley and began searching for the source. She pulled out her flashlight, scanning the area around her. She looked at the ground around her, broken beer bottles, needles, and torn paper littered the alley. Near the wall of her apartment building was a small pool of blood with a streak of blood on the wall above it. She slowly followed the streak of blood up with her flashlight finding a ruby-colored message: If you want your precious genius back, you’ll have to find him, Ekki Mukk. Rose dropped her flashlight and gun as her hands went to her face in shock, reading the message with wide and wet eyes.   
JJ heard the gun drop to the ground and ran into the alley with her own flashlight. “Rose? Are you okay? Have you found anything?” JJ slowed as she took in the scene around her. First, she saw Rose looking up at a wall, shocked, then a pool of blood a few inches away from her feet, then a streak of blood on the wall, and the threatening message just above. “Oh my god.” Rose breathed in suddenly, the weight of what was happening finally hitting her like a punch to the gut. She felt faint and nearly collapsed when JJ rushed to support her. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Let’s get you back.” Rose nodded, hands still covering her mouth as she began to control her breathing.   
“I'm so sorry,” She choked out to JJ as they walked back to the street, now flooded with police cars. “I don’t remember if I locked my window or not, I-I don’t know what happened…”  
JJ rubbed her arm comfortingly, “There’s no way you could have known. This isn’t your fault.”   
“JJ,” Rose began, continuing after receiving a reassuring nod, “He did come to my apartment drunk, but I wasn’t entirely truthful with you when you showed up at my door. He confessed he liked me, I told him he was drunk, he said he had sobered up. One thing led to another…” She looked up sheepishly at JJ, trying to read what she was thinking. Reid and JJ were best friends, and she wasn’t entirely sure JJ didn’t have feelings for him. “We were going to hold off on saying anything because we aren't supposed to… fraternize, but…”   
“Rose, I’m glad you told me, but I don’t think that has anything to do with the case at hand.” JJ gave her another reassuring smile as Rose sighed in relief.   
“I just want to be honest, just in case.”  
“I get that, and if the case goes in that direction, we’ll tell everyone. Until then, work the case. Try to keep your head. Don’t let whatever you guys were doing affect your work.”  
“Of course not.” Rose nodded, making her face serious. “We have to find him.” Just then, Morgan arrived, face full of concern. Rose winced at the thought of going to face her team at Quantico, and she almost got sick as she imagined what Spencer might be going through right then. A rough, calloused hand wiping a tear from her face brought her out of her reverie. She looked into Morgan’s eyes as she let the tears begin to flow freely once again, losing balance. He embraced her and helped her into the black SUV.  
They arrived at Quantico shortly after, meeting the rest of the team as Garcia began a presentation of what they knew so far. “Okay, so it seems like Reid was abducted right at midnight. More importantly, right at the 5 year anniversary of his abduction. Somehow, the unsub, whoever it is, got into Rose’s apartment while she happened to have opened the door for JJ, got Reid, and left without alerting either of the two FBI agents present.” Rose was shaking her head as she stared at Spencer’s picture on the screen in front of her, biting her nails.   
“How did he get into my apartment? I mean, I’m safe. I lock my windows, I lock my door, and I have a gun right next to the window in a drawer and 4 others hidden in my apartment. Hell, I have alarms everywhere.” She paused as her team gawked at her extensive safety precautions. “What? You’re telling me y’all don't?”   
“Okay,” Garcia continued awkwardly, “So, who could do this, and, more importantly, who would want to do this?” The team had no answers. Tobias Hankle was dead, and he didn’t have any family or friends.   
“The message we found,” JJ winced, “It was written in blood. It was almost like a challenge.” Garcia clicked to the image of the bloodstained wall. If you want your precious genius back, you’ll have to find him, Ekki Mukk. The words echoed in Rose’s head. Ekki Mukk.   
Almost as if he read her mind, Morgan spoke up, “What does ‘Ekki Mukk’ mean?” No one on the team seemed to have an answer.  
“It seems like it is from an icelandic language. Definitely not a common phrase.” Rossi began. He looked to Prentiss, “Emily, you know a lot of languages, any luck?” She shook her head.  
“Unfortunately I never needed to learn any icelandic languages while traveling. This ‘Ekki Mukk’ seems to be what the unsub wants us to focus on, though. It’s the only piece not in english, and it’s placed at the end of the message. Whatever it means, it’s important to this case.” The team nodded following Emily’s reasoning.   
“Garcia,” Hotch commanded, “Get us any information you can about ‘Ekki Mukk’. What does it mean, where does it come from, what language is it, anything and everything you can find. Everyone else, start digging into Reid’s old cases. We need to find who may still have a grudge against Spencer, and who could get to him. That eliminates anyone still in jail. We haven't received a message from our unsub yet which doesn't bode well for Reids safety, so time is limited. Go.” The team started into action, and Garcia retreated back into her tech cave, looking for answers. Hotch worried as they dug into Reid's life. He couldn't shake the feeling they were looking for something Reid wanted to stay hidden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the POV, sorry! This is the POV I enjoy writing in more, and I didn't want to go back and edit everything.


	4. Vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid has been abducted, and the team scrambles to find any lead on where he could have been taken. Hotch still can't shake the feeling this case might hit too close to home for their boy genius, and Spencer tries to piece together a profile to save his life.

Reid woke up disoriented in a bed he didn’t quite recognize. “What the fuck? Where am I?” He groaned to himself as his hand went to wipe the night out of his eyes. He remembered getting back to his apartment after Rose left his car, having a bit too much to drink, okay, drinking way too much. He remembered showing up at Rose’s apartment, and then crying… a lot. He remembered kissing her, and getting kissed back. Despite his circumstances, he couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his face. Then they were interrupted by a knock on the door. He tried to compose himself in case someone was there for him, and then… nothing. He took a moment to observe his surroundings. He was wearing a satin pajama set that he didn’t own, and he was in a soft bed in a room he had never seen before. The door was to his left and there was a window to his right looking out on the city. Wait, he thought to himself, this is not the skyline I'm used to. It seemed to be the Las Vegas strip, but how did he get in Las Vegas? How did he get in this bed? He went to stand up, but quickly fell back for two reasons: he was handcuffed to the bed frame, and pain started radiating from his stomach. He used his free hand to slowly lift up his shirt and found a long gash from his lower abdomen to his chest which seemed to be very crudely stitched. “Shit.” He mumbled to himself. He looked to the side of the bed and found a note with beautiful handwriting next to a glass of water and 2 red pills.   
Spencer, I’m sure you’re very confused. Don't worry, you're safe with me :) The water is to take the pain medication. I’m sure you’re probably sore from that unfortunate gash. I’ll be back home around 5, so try to get some rest. Love you! -Rose  
“Rose?” He pondered; this was not Rose’s apartment and that was not her handwriting, so what were they trying to pull? He looked back to the door and noticed a camera right above it. He had to play along in case this person was horribly unstable. “Hi!” he spoke to the camera, “Thank you for taking care of me and for the, um, medication, but what time is it now? You said you’d be home around 5, but I don’t know how long that will be.” He waited, no response. Okay, he thought, no communication. Just then, a loud robotic voice filled the room, “It is currently 3:34 PM. 5:00 PM will be in 1 hour and 26 minutes. Please take your medication and rest until your company arrives.  
He looked at the camera in shock, one hand covering his ear from the loud voice. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck… He looked back down to his handcuffed hand, trying to find a way out. He started frantically pulling on his restraints, his hair clouding his vision. He kept checking the camera, and he tried to get off the bed to look at his restraints more clearly when the voice echoed through the room once again, “Please return to your bed to rest. You have 1 hour and 20 minutes until your company arrives.”   
“No! No, I don’t want any company just let me leave! Let me out of here!” He started frantically fighting again when he heard a faint hissing sound. “Wait-” A white gas started filling the room, and everything went black.   
“Oh Spencer,” Rose’s voice was heard, “I told you not to fight. I’m trying to take care of you. Why won't you just listen?” 

Garcia came running back into the room where the team was slaving over Spencer’s old cases. “Guys! ‘Ekki Mukk’ has three translations and the phrase is best known as the title of a song.”  
“What are the three translations?” Emily inquired, setting her coffee down as the rest of the team turned their attention towards Garcia.   
“The most direct translation is ‘no sound’, but ‘be quiet’ or ‘he was silent’ are also viable translations. But! The most interesting thing I found was a short film that goes with the song. Basically there is this snail that tells this man lost in the woods how to get back home, I could go on about it but the important thing is that the whole meaning is going home, being protected, and the natural order of things.”  
“Natural order meaning?”  
“Returning home through death.” Garcia grimaced at the thought. A silence fell in the room seeming to coat everything in uncertainty. “I know I’m not a profiler, but everything surrounding this phrase was meant for comfort. Comfort in death, comfort in finding your way, comfort in friendships. I mean, I don’t think this unsub is necessarily hostile, I think they’re trying to protect Spencer in their own twisted way.” She glanced at all of her coworkers, waiting for their professional opinion on her take.   
“I think baby girl is right. I mean, there was a lot of blood at the scene, but think of the timing. He was taken at the beginning of his hardest anniversary. If someone is concerned for him, it makes sense they would want to help him through such a difficult memory, and to a twisted individual, they might do that a lot of different ways.” The team nodded as Morgan worked through Garcia’s idea, and she let out a sigh of relief. “So, let’s look at this from a caring perspective for a moment. They want to protect Spencer, make him feel safe, comfort him. This unsub is probably of icelandic descent and has a personal connection to Spencer. Where would you take him if you’re trying to comfort and save him?” The team pondered for a moment when JJ nearly yelled out her revelation.  
“His home, Las Vegas! If they have a personal connection to him, they may have known him from Las Vegas and think that’s where he would feel most safe. Plus, it’s nowhere near Tobias Hankle or any legacy of him.”   
“That’s our best lead right now. JJ, Morgan, and Rossi, go to Las Vegas and start asking the local police department if they have heard or seen anything suspicious. Until we’re positive that’s where Reid is, the rest of us will keep looking here.” JJ and Morgan nodded and took off to grab their go-bags, Emily placed an arm around Garcia and walked with her back to her cave, and Rossi stayed behind.   
“Do you think that’s where he is?” He asked Hotch.   
“It’s all we have. I’m just nervous if we keep digging into his past, we might find something we aren't supposed to. I can’t shake this gut feeling that this unsub is very close to Reid.” Rossi nodded in understanding, tapped Hotch on the shoulder, and walked out to the jet. Hotch went back to searching through Reid’s old cases when he found a particular case that fit this unsub’s profile.


	5. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer wakes up from a nightmare still in captivity, and his captor has a few questions to ask him.

_He was sitting in AP Chemistry surrounded by his much older peers. As his professor began to lecture about Molarity, Spencer received a note from behind him._

_“You undertsand this shit queer?” He winced at the slur, and looked back to find three jokes high-fiving each other between laughs. He crumpled the note and stuffed it in his bag, bringing his attention back to the lecture. His mom forgot to pick him up again, on her bad days it’s hard for her to remember, so he had to walk home. He had waited about an hour after school for her when he began his trek home, it wasn’t late but it got dark quick this time of year. His hair was longer than average for a boy and it bounced as he walked, his backpack unmoving due to the weight of all his books. He was going over traits of elements in his head that he had memorized when he heard a car pull up behind him. He turned around squinting blinded by the lights when he recognized the boy getting out of the car as the author of the note from chemistry. The jock cracked his knuckles, and Spencer ran. He was running as fast as he could, but his bag was barely lighter than he was. The bully quickly caught up throwing Spencer to the ground._

_“Get up, faggot.” Spencer crawled backwards, flinching at his words. “I said,” he paused_ _to kick his thigh, “get up, faggot!” Spencer started to do as he was told, but was quickly pushed back down. Spencer grunted in pain as his head hit the concrete. The bully quickly straddled him giving him no chance to recover. He was lifted by his collar, forced to be face-to-face with his abuser as he felt a hand cup his groin._

_“Hey, what are you-”_

Spencer’s eyes opened wide in fear as he woke up from his nightmare. “Fuck.” He groaned as he wiped the horrible memory out of his eyes. He sat up, crying out in pain. He lifted his shirt to examine his wound again and found the gash had turned black and half of the stitches were falling out. He rolled his eyes as he tried to get out of bed. He wasn’t handcuffed anymore, and, if he hadn't been drugged, he could walk right out of this room. Unfortunately, he had been drugged. His mind was cloudy and his limbs felt like noodles. There was no way he could get out of here by himself. He made it to the floor and took in his surroundings. They seemed to be the same as before, but he didn’t get a good look before the door opened. A woman walked in wearing a gas mask.

“I heard you talking in your sleep. I’m so sorry about what happened to you when you were younger, I think we should talk about it.” Her voice was muffled through the mask, and he couldn't see any part of her face. She sat down in front of him presenting a cup of coffee, “Just how you like it. Black, no sugar, no cream.” Her head tilted waiting for him to take it. He weighed his options before cautiously picking up the cup, careful not to upset his captor. He was chained, but the gas from earlier made him too weak to stand. _What is that stuff?_ He wondered, taking his first sip of coffee. “Look, I know you don’t know who I am, I mean I haven’t told you anything yet, so I’m sure it’s hard to trust me. But, you have to work through this, and I can help you.” Her head tilted to the side like an interested dog waiting for his command. 

“I-” He paused, taking deep breaths, “I don’t need to talk about it. I appreciate your concern though, and thank you for the coffee.” He willed a gentle, reassuring smile hoping to convince her. 

“You’re telling me you have nothing to work through?” She cocked her head to the other side. 

“That’s right, I'm totally fine.” Another half hearted smile. 

“So, let me get this straight. You were abandoned by your father, your mother’s mental illness affected every aspect of your life, you were outcasted by your peers, you were abducted by Tobias Hankle, you became addicted to Dilaudid and continue to relapse until this day, and you’re gay and you have nothing to work through?”

“I don't, I wasn’t, I’m not…”

“Let me guess. You don’t relapse, you weren’t outcasted, and you're not gay? Spencer, this is a safe space, you can be honest here.” Her head tilted again. 

“How would you know any of this?” Tears started to form in his eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. She took her hand through his hair and held his cheek. He began to stumble through his words, spilling out his thoughts as soon as they entered his mind. “I’ve never t-told anyone about, a-about…” He looked up at her utterly confused, tears streaming down his face freely. 

“It’s important to note that being gay affects you the most.” Once again, her head cocked to the other side. 

“That’s, that's not what I’m trying to say…”

“Your team doesn't know do they? You keep dodging questions about your sexulaity and you can’t even call yourself gay. Which could be because you don’t identify as gay, I mean being bisexual or anywhere else on the spectrum is completely valid, but you havent used those terms either indicating they make you uncomfotable. I don't say any of this to condemn you, it certainly makes sense with that bully dream and your religious upbringing…” 

“Hold on Jesus Christ!” His outburst seemed to startle her for a moment, before prompting another head cock to the side. He set his coffee down, and placed his head in his hands. “God dammit. I just woke up from a fucking nightmare, and you bombard me with all of these _fucking_ accusations that I don’t even have time to refute or admit to. Jesus fucking Christ.” He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation while she just watched on curiously.

“This is why I think you still need to-”

“Work through it, right? I have worked through a lot of this, but forcing me to remember things I willfully and intentionally locked away, in a healthy way guided by a therapist I might add, is the opposite of helpful. You’re just forcing me to relive trauma in an unfamiliar place! How is that helping me? How is that protecting me from my past?” He stared up at her pleading in his eyes, tears pooling once again. “Please, just let me leave. I can go get real medical attention. I haven't seen your face so I can’t identify you. You can give me that gas again so I won’t remember where this place is, but you need to let me go. There is still a way out of this for you.”

“Oh Spencer, I love you. You don’t need to be silenced anymore. You can talk to me. We can work through your pain and restore balance.” She retracted her hand, and his hands fell as the reality of his situation sunk in. He stared at the ground, hands starting to shake from anxiety setting in. “Now, I knew you wouldn’t drink all of your coffee so I supplied an extra large dose so your one sip should be hitting you soon. If you’re not out within 5 minutes, I’ll go ahead and start the gas again. This is good for you Spencer, I promise.” 

“Wait, what did you dose me with?”

“Oh, Dilaudid. I hoped it would bring up some Tobias memories. The gas I used before has mostly worked for childhood trauma.” She waved goodbye, stood, and left the room leaving Spencer staring at his cup, half empty. 

“Wait! I think, I think I had, um, my, my coffee?” The room went dark again as Spencer fell into a dilaudid-induced nightmare.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! Sorry for a bit of a hiatus, my midterms were crazy (we love pre-med). BUT! Hopefully you like this chapter. I'm home for spring break, so I'm hoping to get a lot of new chapters done. :)


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